


Eco

by Copper_Wings



Category: Yogscast "High Rollers" D&D Campaign
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fighting, Mild Language, Nalistri gets his ass kicked, Protesting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:18:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copper_Wings/pseuds/Copper_Wings
Summary: Nalistri works for his father. he hates it.Every day is the same.you get up, you work, you go to bed.but what else could he do?





	Eco

**Author's Note:**

> should i write more?

Shoulder pads made you look bigger than you truly are. A black tie gives the impression that you are in charge. A hanky with the family crest on it was a subtle hint to your bloodline. A tailored suit projected wealth. A black leather briefcase meant you knew what you were talking about.

 

All this was well and good but when the shoulder pads made you look like one of Lady Gagas backup singers and the tie felt like it was strangling you. The itchy suit and clumbersum briefcase where only an afterthought. Thankfully the hanky hadn’t spited him yet. As he sat in the back of the family town car, Nalistri idly looked out the window. Another day, another meeting where his feeble voices would be drowned out by the big tycoons with their simple aim of making more money. London passed by in a blur. Every now and then the view was completely blocked by the mass of red that was a bus. They passed over a bridge and the expanses of the themes was lined with tourists that clung to the railing having their photos taken. The day had stated off better than normal, Sylval was away in Paris for a photo shoot. And Father had left early for a breakfast meeting with America. He had snuck past his mother’s room to avoid waking her and taken his own breakfast in the kitchen with Plato. The scruffy cook putting Nalistri in better spirits with his happy go lucky chatter. But still the time had come for him to climb into the big black car, to be taken to work.

 

The door opening and the driver looking at him with a polite smile on his face was what snapped the poor boy out of his daydream. He hadn’t even notices that the car had stopped. The car park was dark and smelled slightly of piss. Pigeons sat defiantly on the netting meant to keep them out. A few expensive cars where parked in the reserved lots convincedly near the door. Nalistri walked the short distant to the door his briefcase swinging at his side. After an uneventful lift journey he stepped out into the brightly lit foray of the offices for his father’s manufacturing industry. The marble room echoes as he walked through it. A brown-haired lady rolled her heavily made up eyes at him as he passed before turning them back to her phone screen. Foreboding painting of passed business partners looked down on the youngest Frostwalker with scorn. Their painted faces set in a permeant sneer at anyone who passed through their lobby. potted plants sat sadly in every corner, like rats in a laboratory cage. Two burly security guards stood at a metal detector portal that separated the ground floor hall way from the lobby. Nalistri hated this part. He walked passed them not making eye contact and placed his briefcase in the tray. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and placed it there as well, next came his watch, then his keys. He took a deep breath and pulled his sleeve up. Closing his eyes at the sound of ripping Velcro he removed his prosthetic hand. He didn’t open his eyes as he placed it in the tray. He turned and looked straight ahead as he stepped though the portal.

 

He had lost it on work experience. Two weeks working with his father and brother, before the accident that had killed him. But instead of paper work and fetching coffee, Selandris had decided that his youngest son needed to bulk out a bit. So, he had been sent to work in one of the company processing plants. It had been a little over a week of Nalistri standing out like a saw thumb among the gigantic titans that where called workmen. There had been a fault with one of the machines and one of the workers had told Nalistri to stick his hand in the mouth of the massive shredding monster and pull the clumps of mangled wood out. Nalistri always the diligent student had done so while the man had slid under the belly of the creature to fiddle around with its insides. After that all he could really remember was pain. Pain and noises. Some flashed of memories would haunt him in the depths of the night but it was the pain that seemed to surfaces every time he had to rip the Velcro off his prosthetic. His father had payed off the workmen and A&E surgeons so no one would ever learn of the accident. Most people in the offices though that he had just been born without a hand. This had seemed to anger his father more. the possibility of imperfection in his bloodline had upset the man so much that when asked about it he had said that Nalistri was adopted or a bastard of some description. The rumble of the tray sliding down towards him pulled Nalistri out of his thoughts and 100-yard stair at the doors to the lift at the end of the hall. He slipped his hand back on clasping the fingers ones or twice. It was top of the range and looked just like a real hand, no one would know unless he took it off in front of them. He picked up the rest of his thing before continued down the hall. The doors to the lift opened welcomingly to him. He stepped inside and the doors closed on him, sealing him into another day of hell.

 

Nalistri was nose deep in paper work when his phone buzzed. The manic tapping of his computer keyboard filling his tiny offices. It was more a supply cubored than an office the desk took up most of it. A filing cabinet greedily hogged the rest. He had to slide over the side of his desk to access the cabinet and the door. His out tray was slowly filling up as his in tray emptied. His phone lay neglected on the table, a top of the range smart phone with all the trimming, he only used it of texting and phone calls. It buzzed again when the first buzz was ignored. He looked away form the screen for a second to glances at the lit-up phone screen. The name Velan popped up with a hidden message underneath. He looked back at the screen before the name really hit him. He paused in his work opening his phone blinking when the time read half one in the afternoon. He pulled up his messages and opened the new one.

 

_Velan: your father wishes for you to attend a meeting at four this afternoon in his absents._

_Velan: message repeat, as you will no doubt miss the first one, your father wishes for you to attend a meeting at four this afternoon in his absents. Also, the meeting will last four hours so be prepared._

As if to punctuate Velan’s comments Nalistri’s stomach growled. Now that all his attention wasn’t absorbed in his work he realised how hungry he had gotten. He saved his work and logged out of his computer, turning it off. Carefully standing up so that his didn’t knock his chair into the wall Nalistri slid out from behind his desk and picked up his briefcase and pulled open the sticky door to his offices. As he walked down the hall he texted Velan back,

 

_Nalistri: thank you Velan, please inform father that I shall attend. Will be out of the offices for about half an hour for lunch._

He slipped his phone back into this pocket and stepped back into the lift.

 

 

He was daydreaming again as he walked though the echoing lobby. He was fiddling with his watch as he slowly stepped down the steps outside the office building so he nearly trod on the scruffy man sat on the steps in front of him. Lucky he only grazed the guy with his foot before he jumped back shocked out of his thoughts. The guy jumped up as well he had a t shirt that may have once been white, it was an off grey now, that had a cartoon earth with the words “Save the Arctic” written over it in large letters. A pair of patch work trousers covered his legs but not the sandals the displayed his mangled toes. The man had a thick knot of dreadlocks hanging form one side of his head, the other seemed to have been shaved with a pair of rusty shears by a blind shepherd. He had a dark tan over his face and halfway up his arms, as if he had been working in a hot country wearing a slightly shorter t-shirt. A sign that he had been holding dropped to the floor as he jumped up and spun around. Nalistri was frozen in shock as the man stated shouting at him,

“so, you are physically and metaphorically stomping on us now, huh?” he shouted pointing an accusatory finger at the shocked office worker, “its not enough that you wont hear our voices but now your going to walk right over us!” Nalistri stated to unfreeze. He finally noticed the other similarly dressed people dotted around on the stairs and the thick line of them blocking the bottom and spilling out onto the footpath. Some of them held signs some held banners but they all where chanting and shouting at the small clump of smartly dressed workers that stood under a decorative tree a few yards away from them. Nalistri recognised some of them as they worked on his floor. They waved flags and shouted as passers-by who walked too close to them. A shirtless man in a green bandana was running up and down the line. there was no way he was in change. Every time he stopped along the line he was pushed way. A crudely drawing of the earth was painted on his chest. it seemed to be crying or sweating or laughing you couldn’t really tell. He held a cardboard sign that said “MY ARMS HURT!” it was soon ripped out of his hands and taken away. The man with dreadlocks shouting at Nalistri was drawing attention form his fellow protesters two large men detached themselves from the picket line and trotted up the few steps towards the two gentlemen.

“what’s the matter Keenak?” one asked concerned. The other gave Nalistri the stink eye. He looked him up and down suddenly his eye zeroed in on his hanky sticking out of his top pocket.

“this corporate bastard kicked me!” the first man, who had now been named Keenak, shouted. The second man tuned and angry glare to Nalistri who panicky spluttered,

“N,n,no. I d,d,didn’t kick him.” His stutter almost strangling him in his panic. Keenak turned back to Nalistri getting right into his face,

“are you calling me a liar!” he bellowed. The third man stepped forward and yanked the hanky out of his pocket, holding it up for them all to see. The small hand embroidered family crest glinted in the sunlight. Dam his family for having so much gold in the small image.

“he’s a Frostwalker.” He growled in a low menacing voice. Nalistri tried to shrink into himself but no matter how hard he tried he didn’t disappear. They all turned on him.

“bloody, Money grabbing, fat cat!” the third one rumbled as they moved forward. Nalistri stumbled backwards up one step before his ankle caught and he fell backwards. His head hit the step with a surprisingly cartoonish clunk. He grabbed at his head as pain blossomed through his brain. The men standing over him where shouting something but he couldn’t hear them but they seemed angry. One pulled his foot back and kicked at Nalistri’s prone form. His head rang as a boot smacked into his ribs. He rolled down the last few steps bumping into the line of protesters. He curled into a ball as another boot hit him in the back. The thud of wood hitting concert sounded close to his head and the kicking stopped. He cracked an eye open and peeked up at his attackers. A woman stood over him holding a sign that read “for Frack sake” as if it was a staff. She stood in a fighting stance waiting to attack or defend when the situation called for it. She was oriental, her black hair spewed over to one side the other stylistically shaved. Her eyes where amber and glowing almost in the sunlight. She had the customary “save the arctic” t-shirt on but her face was set in an emotionless frown. She said nothing just glared at the three men. Two knots of scars poked out from under her hairline on her fore head. Another woman’s voice was coming from behind her. It had a Scottish draw to it but it wasn’t overpowering her words.

“what are you doing!” she shouted, the sound of someone politely pushing though the crowed filled the gap, “this is meant to be a peaceful protected and your assaulting someone on the steps! No wonder they don’t want to talk to us, they are afraid they will get attacked!” a small woman marched up to the three men. She stood with her hands on her hips and chastised them. Surprisingly when Nalistri looked back at the men they looked scared. The woman was barely scraping five feet tall and had long pastel blue hair. A light blue shirt with “SAVE OUR PLANIT” written over it didn’t quite cover her middle exposing quite a muscular stomach. A tattoo of an upside-down half-moon with some sort of insignia in the centre, decorated the top half of her right arm. Stylish black and white leggings with happy little skulls covered her legs ending in heavy workman’s boots. Bangles hung on her writs jangling when she moved.

“we are sorry Miss Elora,” Keenak apologised all but bowing to her as he stepped way from Nalistri pulling his two companions with him. The woman standing over him stepped back and relaxed her potion. She kept her eyes glued on the three fleeing men. The smaller woman huffed irritated at the men before turning to Nalistri. She smiled at him and held out her hand. She was beautiful. Nalistri had to take a moment to convinces himself a goddess hadn’t just dropped out of the sky to save him from getting his ass kicked. Nalistri had seen beautiful women all his life, his sister was a model for god sake, but they all paled into insignificant compared to this woman’s beauty. She was so natural. A small amount of mascara had been dabbed onto the ends of her lashes to enhances their length. Other than some baby pink lip gloss she had no other makeup to speak of. Shaking slightly Nalistri took her hand and let her help him stand up.


End file.
